


The Piñata Perspective

by Fido_Barkin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 17:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18921364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fido_Barkin/pseuds/Fido_Barkin
Summary: This is the first piece of writing I ever wrote. I happened to find it while looking through some old flash drives. I kind of wanted to write something grim dark and this was the result.





	The Piñata Perspective

Prologue:

It happens every year. We all know that it's coming, but we are never able to stop it. They dress us up in bright colors with intricate designs and patterns to wear. Then we are put on display for the eyes of the masses who are just waiting to use us for their personal pleasure.

The young ones are sold off first. I guess it only makes sense because they have the brightest and newest attire. As for myself, I managed to survive last year. Don't get me wrong, I didn't have some master plan or grand strategy. I just got lucky, that's all. I say I survived, but truth be told I really don't know what happens to the others who are sold into slavery; I imagine that it can't be anything nice. After all, I've never once heard of someone coming back, or even heard about them at all after they have been sold. 

Oh no. It looks like someone has their eye on me this year. He's coming this way.

He pays for me as if I were nothing, and then he gives me a smile that sends chills down my back as he says, "Oh, yes. We are going to have lots of fun with you." 

The look on his face was what I can only describe as the jubilant smile of a demon as he looks at a fresh soul to torture. I saw something sinister behind those eyes that paralyzed me with fear.

"Just what does this man have planned for me? 'Lots of fun'? What does he mean?" These thoughts raced through my mind as I was taken out of the place of sale.

He took me out to his van in the parking lot. It was jet black with tinted windows. He opened up the back of the van and threw me in with no thought to my well being at all. I blacked out after my head collided with a tire iron that was propped up by various bits of clutter.

Story:

When I regained consciousness I could tell that it had gotten fairly late in the day because the street lights (I could see from the window) were already on. My attention was soon brought to my head which had a rather large gash in it from when I was so carelessly thrown into the back of the black van and my head collided with thr tire iron. After a few moments I felt the van come to a stop.

As the back doors opened the strange man roughly grabbed me up, saying, "Come on, you. Get out of there!"

I didn't really have any choice in the matter, as he had already dragged me half way out of the van before he even finished his command. He started walking me up to his house, which was rather nice looking. Kind of like the ones they have in those home and garden magazines. 

As we entered the house the man was greeted by a woman who looked to be the same age as he was. After geeting the man, I knew from the way she talked to him that she must have been his wife. She then looked at me and exclaimed, "Oh my lord! What happened?!" As she said this she pointed a boney finger at the gash on my head. The man tried to explain away the incident with the tire as just a result from me moving around in the back. As he was spinning his tale I started to feel somewhat relieved. 

"Surley" I thought, "someone who cares about the injuries of others can't be that bad."

After the man failed to give what his wife deemed a satisfactory answer she scolded him about how he needed to be more gentle with things. Then she turned her attention back towards me and said, in a very motherly tone, "Awe, you poor thing. I can't believe that big brute handled you so roughly." Then as she embraced me I felt the rest of the fear that had been plaguing me melt away.

"Had I been wrong?", "Was there really nothing to worry about this entire time?", "This can't be a bad place. Not with someone as tender and caring as this lady." All these thoughts and more swirled in my my mind as I let myself feel more and more secure in her arms.

Shortly thereafter I was taken to the back yard, where it had already gotten dark. There was a bonfire burning in a small, iron fire ring, and children were running around laughing and playing tag while using a single large oak tree as a safe spot. Their eyes lit up and they appluaded my entrance as though I was some sort of famous actor or musician. 

I was so happy to see their bright smiling faces that I didn't even notice what was going on right behind me...

The rope was slipped over my head and tied tight before I even knew what was happening. The other end of the "noose" was then thrown over a high limb that grew out and away from the large oak tree that the children had been playing under.

The fear that had been wiped away by a motherly embrace suddenly surged back like a tsunami. The fear I felt now was ten times what I had felt before. Why mind was a whirlpool of "why"s and "for what reason"s. I was strung up by the neck, hovering a few feet off the ground. I could feel the rope digging into my flesh as my heavy body hanged uselessly under me. The childrens' applause got even lounder at the sight of my body dangling in mid air.

"What kind of people are these?!" I wondered, as one of the adults blindfolded a giggling child. The child was then handed a broom stick which had been wrapped in colorful streamers and ribbons. As the child began to pull the broom stick up to his shoulder like a baseball bat, the man who bought me started pulling on the other end of the rope that was tied around my neck. This made me go higher and lower as the blindfolded child swung at my suspended body with all his might.

Fortunately for me the man pulled the rope down right as the kid swung which got me out of his way. Then through the haze of confusion and fear I noticed a second child being blind folded and handed the stick which was used by the first. In that moment one thing became abundantly clear: these people are going to murder me and have my death be entertainment for their children.

The low glow from the small bonfire only increased the sinister feel of the whole ordeal. Time after time the children kept taking swings at my hanging form. Each time they would either miss or not get a blow in because of the man pulling the rope. How ever with the blows they had landed my legs were now broken, my back was split open in some places, and the gash on head from the time in the back of the van was now indistinguishable from all of the other cuts and bruises that littered my face. I no longer accepted these things, which enjoyed beating my body, as children. They seemed, to me, more like demons, dancing and laughing in the glow of the fire light.

The woman who had earlier comforted me with sweet words and a loving embrace now stepped foreward. However she did not seem to be the same loving mother figure I had met only an hour before. Her face now more resembled the face that her husband had when he first bought me. (The jubilant demon looking at a fresh soul to torture.) She held the stick in her hands, she had no blindfold, and she instructed her husband not to move me an inch, because she was tired of waiting for the grand finale. She brought the stick high above her head and then she brought it down with a mighty yell and all of her weight behind it. The brightly decorated stick ripped and tore a large hole in my side from which my insides started to fall on the ground.

The children erupted with cheers and they.....OH MY GOD!!!

THEY ARE EATING MY INSIDES!!! NO! NO! NO!

THEY ARE DIGGING THEIR HANDS INTO MY BODY! OH GOD! PLEASE MAKE THEM STOP!!!

PLEASE GOD NO!!! ANYTHING BUT THIS!!!

As death comes for me I no longer have any will to fight. All I can feel are tiny hands inside my body ripping out my inards. Ah? What's this? The warm heat of the fire. At last the empty shell that was once my body, now broken, torn apart, and consumed, is cast into the inferno and I can rest forever forgetting the horrors I saw this night.


End file.
